A Brisk Mudding Session

A light dewy frost paints the leaves,
Damp grass wets the pasture,
Soaked ground awaits the trampling,
Dry dirt now transformed to a mush,
The midnight sky just ran away,
A vibrant colorful sky is creeping in,
Small pools gather in the ruts,
reflecting the sky like a painters canvass,
A rooster’s holler wakes the forest,
My key turns, coming a live like the animals before us,
An empty trail guides me like a map,
To an endless abyss my tires point me,
Crawling through the forest,
My truck keeps going,
Until the mudded pathway,
Catches me cocky,
Stuck in the spot,
Like a mouse in a trap,
Like the jaws of a shark,
The mud clamps my tire, never giving up.





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